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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361694">sunsets and farmers markets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeosangies/pseuds/yeosangies'>yeosangies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Family Issues, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, THEY ARE FARMERS, san is secretly insecure :(, seonghwa is very edgy in this, sorry im bad at tagging i promise this is better than i let it on to be, this will get disgustingly soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:08:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeosangies/pseuds/yeosangies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Park's and the Choi's have been going at it for as long as anyone can remember. With two opposing produce stands set up in the same market, both of the family's lives revolved around ruining the others. </p><p>But what happens when Seonghwa and San cross paths? Seonghwa, whose family is falling apart at the seams, and San, whose family is not all that it seems to be. </p><p>Seonghwa, who wants nothing more than to go home after long days at the market, and San, who wants to try and win the heart of the man who seems to hate him more than anything in the world.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi San/Park Seonghwa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Friday’s were always the worst in the summer. </p><p>Not only did Seonghwa have to deal with the insufferable heat of the sun beating down on his skin, but he also had to deal with the crowded farmers market that his parents' produce stand was set up at. He had one small fan blowing on his face, though it's blowing was weak and didn’t help the stuffy air around him at all. Oh, how he wished he could dip his head right into the mist fan that sprayed itself over the vegetables to keep them fresh. Never in his life did he think he would envy being a cucumber, but that cucumber was surely cooler than he was. </p><p>One thing that did <em> not </em> help his case was the nuisance at the stand beside him; the nuisance known as <em> Choi San. </em> He cringed at the name. You see, Seonghwa and San have a very, <em> very </em>long history together. Both of them are children of farmers, and both of their families absolutely despised each other. Their little town that they lived in only had one farmer’s market. This meant that the two families were always competing in some sort of way; whether that be the prices of their produce, the acres of land they owned, or the amount of animals in their possession. It was never ending, and those same traditions were passed down from generation to generation. </p><p>It seemed that no matter what, they were destined to hate each other. That’s how it had been since the early 1900’s. Though Seonghwa never really cared for the others or the Choi’s family farm, he couldn’t help each surge of anger that raced through him whenever San would make some snide comment at him as he worked. He just wanted to get through his work day peacefully, okay? But every single damn time, his solitude was interrupted by his high-pitched voice and sneer. </p><p>So yeah, Friday’s were the fucking worst.</p><p>And so were Saturday’s.</p><p>And Sunday’s. </p><p>Basically, any day that Seonghwa worked the produce stand was the fucking worst. Many times he had pleaded with his parents to let him stay at home and tend to the vegetables. Hell, he’d even clean the horse <em> and </em>cow stables. Every single time, though, they would tell him that he had to learn the ‘ways of the market’, whatever the hell that meant. All he was doing was selling vegetables, eggs, and fruit; what kind of special philosophy was behind that?</p><p>So there Seonghwa sat with his feet propped up against the top of the stand, rocking his chair back and forth to create some sort of movement. He still had another 3 hours left until the market was closed for the day, and he had resorted to counting how many blue t-shirts customers were wearing to cure his boredness. </p><p>Beside him, he heard Choi San speak. “Man, if only you lowered the price of your tomatoes for today. Mine are practically sold out! I heard some people whining about how expensive yours were.” Useless talk. Seonghwa wasn’t interested. San lived for dramatics and drama, and all he wanted to do was get a rise out of him. So he remained silent. <em> That’s twenty-three blue shirts today. </em></p><p>“It seems that it’s a similar situation with your peppers, too. How many do I have left? Oh! Only ten. It looks like you have… an entire crate.” As if he was genuinely observing, he could see San crane his head over to the front of Seonghwa’s stand in his peripheral vision. Seonghwa exhaled a sigh, reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. </p><p>“Choi San, you are the biggest annoyance known to man,” Seonghwa grumbled. He heard San’s shrill giggle in his ear beside him, causing him to visibly cringe as he went back to watching the crowd. </p><p>“Don’t hate the player, hate the game!” San grinned. </p><p>“I hate both.” </p><p>“Well, <em> someone </em> is a downer. Maybe if you were to lower your prices, you would be a bit cheerier.” </p><p>It wasn’t that San was wrong. In fact, he <em> was </em> right, as much as Seonghwa hated to admit it. San’s family had managed to beat Seonghwa’s family with their prices, even if they were just a few cents shy. To customers, those few cents <em> mattered, </em>especially if they were mass buying produce. Seonghwa was lucky to get the few sales that he did today. Each time he would sneak glances back over to San’s stall, it was filled to the brim with curious consumers picking up and inspecting his flawless vegetable. And every single time he made a sale, he would give Seonghwa the same shit-eating grin that he despised. Seonghwa just couldn’t wait to be home and curled up under his sheets once more. </p><p>The last three hours had passed, the crowd dwindling down as the time got later, and Seonghwa found himself lifting his many crates full of vegetables and fruits back into his truck. Work like this had become easy for him overtime, and he was able to load the majority of the crates up with ease.</p><p>That was, until he heard the soft jingling of keys beside him. With a crate of apples in hand, he whipped his head around to see San over his shoulder spinning his keys around his index finger. </p><p>“You need some help?” He asked. There was no trace of malice in his voice, but the smirk he held on his lips has instantly put Seonghwa off.</p><p>“No thanks,” he replied as he slid the crate of apples into the bed of his truck. Turning around, he reached for another crate — corn on the cob, and stepped back over to his truck to place it in. He was surprised when he saw San beside him, loading up one of the boxes alongside him. </p><p>“I said I didn’t need help,” Seonghwa sneered as he reached for another box, sliding it next to another.</p><p>“Geez, tone your ego down a bit, farmer boy. I know you’re tired, especially because you have <em>so</em> much more produce to load than I do.” San grinned.</p><p>There it was. </p><p>“Listen, San,” Seonghwa began, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration, “if you are going to come here just to be a little asshole to me, then I do not want or need your help. I just want to go home, okay? And I really don’t want to have to listen to your snide ass comments. So please, if you’re going to sit here and be a little twerp, walk yourself back to your truck and leave.” </p><p>San sat still for a moment, his smile falling from his lips. </p><p>“Was just joking,” he pouted. Seonghwa sighed out, and together the two finished loading up the boxes. </p><p>Spinning the keys of his truck around his pointer finger, Seonghwa shot San a glare as he climbed into his truck.</p><p>“Have something to say?” The farmer grinned, arms crossed as he leaned his back against the brick building the two were previously sat in a mere half hour earlier.</p><p>“Thanks for your help, I guess,” Seonghwa grunted out of his rolled down window. The heat was just as unbearable on the outside as it was on the inside, and he didn’t really have the patience to allow the mediocre air conditioning in his father’s truck to cool down the interior. As he began to drive off, he heard a voice behind him call out. </p><p>“Goodbye, Seonghwa!”</p><p> </p><p>☼☼☼☼☼</p><p> </p><p>There had always been a numerous amount of oddities in Seonghwa’s life. Whether it be the early birth of calves on hay in the stalls or a swarm of bugs eating a third of their corn stalks, he never could quite find a moment of peace in his action-packed existence.</p><p>Maybe <em> that’s </em> why San had been all over him lately. He found it weird that the younger was so interested in his business, chin propped up by his palms as his elbows rested on the wood of Seonghwa’s vegetable stand, eyes sparkling in interest as he eagerly asked questions that were <em> way </em>too intrusive. </p><p>“So, have you slept with anyone?” San inquired, head tilted as he watched Seonghwa. Seonghwa, on the other hand, had no interest in holding a conversation with him. He kept his feet propped up on a stack of empty wooden boxes, scrolling through Instagram on his phone. </p><p>“I’m not going to answer that question, San.” He replied. You see, San had already sold the bulk of his produce and shut down his stall for the day. Once again, his family had the upperhand in prices, so Seonghwa was left with more than he knew what to do with. </p><p>That’s why San had the time to pester him. </p><p>“Why not?” The latter pouted, the tips of his fingers indenting his cheeks where he let them sit on his face.</p><p>“One, because I don’t even know you. Two, because that’s <em> way </em>too personal. Three, what the fuck San?” Seonghwa spat as he glared up at him from his phone screen. Though, his harsh gaze quickly wiped from his face when a customer approached. </p><p>“Hello!” He grinned, the whites of his teeth flashing as he moved to stand, “if you need any assistance, I will be here.” The woman nodded and continued to browse his collection as San stood pouting next to her. </p><p>The moment she strayed away to look at Seonghwa’s apples, San spoke in a whine, “Why can’t you be that nice to me?” </p><p>“You give me no reason to be nice to you,” Seonghwa replied simply. He rang the customer up, taking her cash before placing it in the register and handing her back the appropriate change. As she walked away, he continued on, “all you ever do is sit and shittalk or pester me all day. I can literally never have a moment of peace when you are in my presence, Choi San.” </p><p>Seonghwa watched as a frown rooted itself in San’s lips. </p><p>“Is it because of our families histories?” He asked genuinely. </p><p>Seonghwa hummed as he debated the question at hand. “Partially. Also because you are the biggest nuisance known to man.” As San frowned, Seonghwa smiled, “now please, leave me be so I can spend the rest of my day relaxing. I helped birth a calf this morning, so I’m a little tired.” </p><p>Begrudgingly, San obliged, sulking back to his stand. By the end of the day, Seonghwa had sold a good bit of his own produce, though San remained sat next to him throughout the rest of the day at the market. </p><p>As Seonghwa cleaned up, he saw San standing near him in his peripheral vision.</p><p>“Why are you still here?” He asked, hoisting a wooden box of corn on his shoulder. </p><p>San dug the toe of his boot into the concrete floor before speaking, “because I didn’t want to leave you here.” </p><p>Seonghwa sneered, moving out the large double-doors to set the box near his truck, San tailing at his heel. “I didn’t ask you to stay. I don’t know why you bothered.”</p><p>“Listen, Seonghwa,” San pouted. Seonghwa turned towards him, eyebrow cocked and hand on his hip as he waited expectantly.</p><p>“I don’t know… you just…,” the other trailed off, rubbing his forearm, “you seem so <em> sad </em>all the time. So depressed. And angry at the world… I felt bad. Y’know, like, I’m sorry… if what I had said in the past has made you hate coming here.” Seonghwa watched as he turned to look towards the building of the farmers market, a few stragglers loading up their own respective vehicles and driving away. </p><p>“So, you decide to pester me because you <em> think </em> I wanted your pity?” Seonghwa pointed out. San instantly frowned. </p><p>“No! No… It’s not like that at all. I just— I don’t want you to hate what you do because of me. And I was scared that it was me.” </p><p>“Well, it <em> is </em> you. Happy?” Seonghwa grumbled as he shoved past San to walk back into the building and retrieve the last of his boxes. Much to his dismay, San scurried after him. </p><p>“But why! What did I do?” He whined out behind him. Seonghwa felt his eyebrow twitch. </p><p>“Can you just leave me alone, please?” Seonghwa groaned as he stepped back out of the building for the last time. Beginning to push the boxes into the bed of his truck, he continued to ignore San’s presence despite him continuing on.</p><p>“No! I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me why you hate my guts so much!” San insisted, hands on his hips.</p><p>Seonghwa turned to look at him once more, a fire burning in his eyes as he spoke sternly, “because your family ruined my whole family's livelihood! We are struggling so fucking badly because yours wants to be so incredibly greedy with the market! There are days where we come home with absolutely <em> nothing </em> , and all you and your family wants to do is rub it in our faces! We are so fucking <em> close </em> to having to sell our farm because we can no longer afford it. So maybe that’s why I can’t stand you, San! Because all you do is rub your success in the faces of others and brag about how all of what you do is so <em> perfect </em> compared to the rest of us!” With a wave of his hand, Seonghwa slammed the bed of his truck shut once all of the boxes were loaded and yanked open the door to the driver’s side of his truck. </p><p>“So just fucking— just <em> leave me alone </em>, okay? I am sick of seeing you.” He violently pulled the door shut before driving off, leaving a speechless and saddened San behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>welcome to my incredibly self indulgent farmer fic. i hope you guys enjoyed!</p><p>kudos and comments wld be appreciated very much &lt;3</p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/slutsangs">twitter</a> (18+)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seonghwa hadn’t been at the market that next weekend.</p><p>Or the next weekend. </p><p><em> And </em>the weekend after that. </p><p>Practically an entire month had gone by, and San had not seen Seonghwa at all. The usual wooden stand full of beautifully ripe produce cultivated by the Park’s had now become empty, and San was worried as to why he hadn’t made an appearance. If his family was struggling so much, shouldn’t he be here to try and sell his produce and make some more money? It didn’t make much sense to San. </p><p>Without Seonghwa’s competition, San’s sales had been as flawless as ever, not that they weren’t flawless before. Though, not having the scowling farmer sat in the stand beside him made his days as boring as ever. He was even beginning to miss the snide comments that he would throw towards his ways.</p><p>He found himself to be missing Seonghwa in more ways than one. </p><p>San missed the way he spoke; how all of his words seemed to roll so effortlessly off his tongue like he was breathing life into each syllable. He missed the way he would sit with his feet propped up on empty boxes, eyes downcast as he scrolled through his Instagram feed — which was full of pretty aesthetic pictures of sunsets most of the time. He missed the way his muscles would flex under the white t-shirt stained with mud and dirt that he would always wear. </p><p>Truth be told, San had a <em> teeny </em>bit of a crush on Seonghwa. Just a minute little thing; one that had yet to fully blossom into something that would spiral out of his control.</p><p>At least, that’s what he told himself. In reality, the budding crush had bloomed into a field of wildflowers, wrapping its stems around his heart and constricting it until it had begun to pump for Seonghwa alone. Deep down, he knew that he was <em> smitten </em>with him. </p><p>San had never been good at showing his emotions, though. The best way that he could show his admiration for Seonghwa and his strength to persist on was through taunts— a very bad tactic, he has come to realize. But it’s not his fault that Seonghwa didn’t pick up on it, okay? There are many times where he had been caught staring. It wasn’t <em> him </em>that was dense. It was Seonghwa. Yeah… totally. </p><p>It was the 25th day of not seeing Seonghwa that broke San. He was worried about what had happened. Did he take it too far? Did Seonghwa quit? Did he move? What had happened? It was like the other farmer was a part of a disappearing act — now you see him, <em> now you don’t.  </em></p><p>He had to admit that he missed his sight for sore eyes.</p><p>Knives scraped against ceramic plates as San sat in silence with his family, pushing the chicken he had cut up along his plate. He wasn’t really hungry because the thought of him driving Seonghwa away from what he loved sickened him. </p><p>“San,” his father began, “you need to eat up. If you don’t eat well, you won’t grow into the strong boy I expect you to be.” </p><p>Exhaling a soft sigh, San merely nodded his head before taking a cautious bite of his food. Dinnertime always went like this; San’s father telling him to eat as his mother sits in stoic silence. He was used to this type of coldness, as the warmth of love was not one that he had felt in his 21 years of life. </p><p>The rest of dinner consisted of awkward silence accompanied by San’s quiet sighs, and afterward, he found himself staring out of the window out at the night sky as he dragged his sponge over the dirty plate in his hands. He wondered if Seonghwa had dinner yet, what a disgustingly domestic thought. San almost laughed at himself. A fool, he was. Why was he spending so much time thinking about someone who does not spare a single thought about him? </p><p>He set the clean plate down in the dish rack, continuing to gaze at the stars ahead. At this time, his mother and father had gone to bed, signaling their temporary departure with a small wave towards San. Most of the housework was left to him, as his parents only had him to help around the house and farm. His father made that brutally clear to him — his parents do not love him, they just need an heir for their farm. </p><p>With all of the dishes washed, San slumped off to his room. He was exhausted for several reasons, the first being his mental state wearing him down. San was known for hiding his insecurities behind a mask of smiles and insults because he never wanted anyone to know how badly he was suffering. </p><p>But it’s fine. Everything is fine. San is <em> always </em> fine. </p><p>Right?</p><p>Of course.</p><p>As he pulled his daytime clothes off and swapped them for a pair of blue flannel pajamas he was once gifted for his birthday, San contemplated on whether or not Seonghwa was currently asleep, too. He found his gaze lingering out the window once more to look at the full moon above. Was Seonghwa looking at the same moon? Was he just as restless as he? </p><p>San had very many questions.</p><p>And San was also <em> not </em>a patient person when it came to wanting answers.</p><p>So, before he could talk himself out of it, San found himself crawling out of bed to crack the window of his bedroom open. Peeking his head out, he could feel the soft night wind brush through his hair and cool the warm blush that was settled on his cheeks. He hoisted himself up off the floor, throwing one leg over the sill before pushing himself up onto the roof of his home. From here, he could see the entirety of the stars overhead. They shone as bright as the fluorescent lights of the market, as bright as Seonghwa’s smile when he gazed down at his phone, and as bright as the headlights on Seonghwa’s truck as he had driven away that night 3 weeks ago where he told San the reason he couldn’t bear to be in his presence.</p><p>That last thought was all that he needed to climb down from his roof, hands gripping the tiles as he dangled himself over the ledge and dropped down onto the grass below. And with the stars guiding him overhead, he followed their path to the one place he had been too scared to go. He ran until his lungs were desperate for air. He ran until his breaths were present in the cool night, and he ran until he stood in front of the Park’s family home. </p><p>The lights were still on in what he presumed to be the kitchen. From the window, he could see Seonghwa sitting around a table with his family. San could recognize the faces of his mother and father, as he had seen them in the market a few times when he wasn’t working his stand. It was odd to him… the way they looked at Seonghwa with love and adoration he hadn’t seen from his parents. </p><p>Maybe that is what truly compelled him to step up onto the wooden porch, the floorboards creaking underneath as he raised a fist to their front door and knocked. San stepped back, hands slid into the pockets of his flannel pajamas as he watched the front door open to reveal Seonghwa in front of him.</p><p>Seonghwa seemed to stare at him for a bit, eyes trailing from his face to his feet before he spoke aloud. “You look like shit.” </p><p>San huffed out a breath, rocking back and forth on his heels as he spoke. “Seonghwa, listen, I—”</p><p>“Oh!” A voice sounded from inside the house. An elder woman, Seonghwa’s mom, poked her head from behind the door to offer San a warm smile, “I didn’t know you had any friends, Seonghwa! Why don’t you come in and make yourself at home, dear!”</p><p>“I actually—”</p><p>“No, go ahead. Come in, we can talk in my room,” Seonghwa replied cooly before moving aside to allow San in. Sheepishly, San stepped into the home, pressing the door shut behind him. </p><p>The house seemed more like a home than San was used to. Decorating the walls were various art projects that seemed like they were done by a child, with stick figures holding hands and arrays of farm animals lining the crinkled white papers. It was like wherever San looked, there were hints of Seonghwa and his family everywhere; from hand-knitted blankets thrown haphazardly over the backs of their couches in the living room to the discarded bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, a movie long forgotten playing on their tv screen. To wrap it all together was the warm smell of an apple pie being pulled from the oven, the hints of fruit and cinnamon luring him into a state of <em> calm. </em>It was funny to him, how his heart had been practically beating out of his chest seconds prior, yet here he was wishing that he could dive into the dessert and talk about how his day had been over a family dinner. </p><p>“You coming?” Seonghwa asked beside him, eyebrow raised quizzically. San responded with a quick nod of his head, bowing towards Seonghwa’s parents before speaking.</p><p>“I apologize for bursting in. Thank you for allowing me inside.” </p><p>Seonghwa’s mother smiled, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand. “Please, don’t stress about it at all. The pie will be down here when you get back.” She then sent an incredibly obvious wink towards Seonghwa’s way, causing San to grin when he saw the faintest of blushes appear on his cheeks. Wordlessly, Seonghwa guided San up a small set of stairs before leading him to what he presumed was his room. When Seonghwa stepped in, San hesitated, his nervous gaze meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. </p><p>Seonghwa snickered, taking a seat on his bed. “You showed up at my house completely unexpectedly after never being here before. The least you could do is step into my room and explain why.”</p><p>San couldn’t explain his fear. He would be entering the most private space of Seonghwa, a moment he never really thought would happen. It was like if he were to transition from the hardwood floors of the hallway to the carpeted floor of Seonghwa’s room, he would be crossing some unknown barrier into a new phase of their — <em> could he even call it friendship? </em></p><p>So, with a deep breath, San stepped in, opting to sit at the very edge of Seonghwa’s bed. “I… I was worried.” </p><p>Seonghwa crossed his arms and leaned back against the headrest of his bed. “Worried about what?”</p><p>“You! God, Seonghwa. You haven’t been to the market in <em> weeks </em> and I—” San paused, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked everywhere but towards Seonghwa, “I was scared that I did something. Well, I <em> know </em> that I’ve done things. I’m just… I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for the hurt and pain that my family and I have caused.” He gulped, finally meeting eyes with Seonghwa as he continued. “I suppose I wasn’t aware… that you were struggling so bad. It was very narrow-minded of me and stupid and I—”</p><p>“San,” Seonghwa began, a hint of a smile tugged up at the corners of his lips, “You came all of this way dressed in sleepwear, looking like an absolute mess in the dead of night because you wanted to say sorry?”</p><p>San nodded, offering him a small, flustered smile. </p><p>“I don’t blame you, I guess. I let my own frustrations best me. After that day, I told my parents that I didn’t want to go back, so they haven’t made me. Besides, I much prefer staying here to tend after the animals than I do sitting in that crowded, hot warehouse selling produce I didn’t even help grow.” Seonghwa exhaled a soft sigh, glancing towards San, “do you enjoy it there?”</p><p>Oh, God. He asked San a question. He had <em> never </em> inquired about San before. San felt his cheeks heat up, and he hoped that the moonlight illuminating Seonghwa’s room wouldn’t give away his reaction to something so simple.</p><p>“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he answered quietly, moving his gaze towards the wall once more. Lining it was hundreds of different Polaroid photos with different subjects, though the predominant one being sunsets. Upon further inspection of Seonghwa’s room, San noticed a bunch of different cameras sat upon one of his wooden dressers. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the conversation at hand, he decided to switch the focus.</p><p>“Did you take all of those photos yourself?” San asked, nodding towards the covered wall. Seonghwa noticeably brightened at the question, sliding off of his bed before motioning San to get up with him. </p><p>“I did, I take a photo of the sunset every single night. I think that there is something so beautifully haunting about them… We take sunsets for granted. They represent the death of a day, yet their striking colors would never make you think of them in such a negative light. When we see sunsets, we all know to retreat into our homes, back to rest and comfort…” Seonghwa trailed off, fingertips brushing over a film marked with that night’s date. “Sunsets remind me to look back on what I have and be thankful that my family and I have made it this far, you know? Others aren’t as lucky as us.” He turned towards San and gave him a sad smile before adding on, “besides, if your family does end up beating mine, then I can say that we tried our hardest.” </p><p>San stood in silence, eyes trained on the image that Seonghwa was touching. The sunset was quite beautiful that night, but San hadn’t thought to take it in. While sunsets were something of a comfort to Seonghwa, they were a reminder of unhappiness for San. Each time that he saw the melodies of oranges and pinks blending in the sky as the sun dipped down below the plains, San was reminded that tomorrow he would have to go back to living the same empty life that he had always been living. </p><p>San could feel his breaths get shakier, thousands of jumbled thoughts running at the speed of light through his mind. He placed a palm against the wall to steady himself, fingers curling against it as he tried to slow his breathing.</p><p>“San?” Seonghwa asked, though his voice sounded distant in San’s mind as he squeezed his eyes shut. </p><p>“I don’t… I can’t…,” he began, tears welling up in his eyes as he struggled to speak. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Seonghwa. I have to go, I can’t—”</p><p>Just as San was about to turn and run, he felt a hand enclose around his wrist to prevent him from moving. Seonghwa held onto him tight, eyes soft and curious.</p><p>“What’s going on, San?”</p><p>Damn Seonghwa. </p><p>“It’s not that big of a deal, Seonghwa.” San mustered, eyes cast down to the floor. </p><p>Seonghwa frowned. “It’s obviously a big deal if you can’t listen to talks of the sunset without crying.” </p><p>San debated his options in his head. He could break away from Seonghwa and run for it; he could run so far that he could leave this entire night and conversation in the dust. Or, he could tell Seonghwa the truth that had been haunting him his whole life. </p><p>He had to say that he was tired of running.</p><p>“I don’t get it,” San began, turning to look at Seonghwa. “I don’t understand your whole idea of love and family and new days. It’s all the same to me… every day is as awful as the last. So when you talk about sunsets as if they’re something to be praised, I simply can’t comprehend it. To me, sunsets are merely timestamps that remind me that the day will end, and tomorrow will go the same way. I don’t know how you could view them as such a positive thing…”</p><p>A silence was held between the two for a bit, and San dug the tip of his worn shoes into the carpet as he waited for Seonghwa to say something. </p><p>“What makes you feel this way, San?” He asked quietly. </p><p>San scrunched his face up. “Are you going to psychoanalyze me or something? You’re not my therapist. We’ve never talked like this at all before, and I’m not about to go and ruin it by opening up about my life.” </p><p>What San wasn’t expecting to hear after that was Seonghwa’s quiet laughter. The sound was beautiful, one that San hadn’t heard before, and he realized that he would do just about <em> anything </em>to hear it again.</p><p>“I’m not going to psychoanalyze you, San. I mean, you aren’t obligated to open up to me about things… I haven’t treated you fairly well either, which I am sorry about, but I certainly didn’t hesitate when I screamed at you about my family’s struggles.” </p><p>San felt a small smile blossom on his lips. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right… I mean, it’s just…” </p><p>Before he could go on, he felt Seonghwa carefully guide him back to his bed once more. “How about I go downstairs and grab us a slice of pie before you begin?”</p><p>San nodded, fiddling with his fingers in his lap as he watched Seonghwa step out of his bedroom and disappear down the hall. As he waited, he tried to think of things that he could say to him. Where could he even start? Does he start with how his parents treat him as though he is inhuman? Or how he doesn’t really like working in the market anyway, but he’s too scared to branch out and explore other options?</p><p>He mulled over this thought until he could hear Seonghwa’s footsteps grow louder as he approached with two plates in hand. San carefully took one from him, setting it down in his lap.</p><p>Seonghwa sat down beside him once more. “This is my mom’s special recipe. It’s been passed down through her side of the family for generations. She could probably sell these and make a living if I’m honest.”</p><p>San prodded at the apple pie with his fork before using the side of it to cut a piece off. He slowly ate the piece before allowing his eyes to fall shut, savoring the taste on his tongue. </p><p>“You’re damn right. This is the best apple pie I’ve ever had in my life.”</p><p>Seonghwa laughed quietly before going back to eating his slice of pie. The two sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence as they ate, yet San’s mind was screaming at him. </p><p>Once they had finished, Seonghwa collected both of their plates once more to set them down on his desk. </p><p>“So, San,” he began, “would you like to tell me about what makes you… you? Why you react to things you do?” </p><p>A lump had formed in San’s throat at this point, and he swallowed at it as he found himself desperately scrambling for words once again. </p><p>“I don’t know what to say…” He started, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. “I’m just… I’m not used to any of this stuff. My dad once told me that my parents only had me so they had someone to work around the farm for free.” </p><p>San could hear Seonghwa’s breath hitch beside him.</p><p>“San… That’s awful,” he whispered out, reaching for one of San’s hands. San tensed up for a moment before hesitantly sliding his fingers between Seonghwa’s. </p><p>“I mean… it sucks, I guess. I still get 3 meals a day and still have a roof over my head, you know? But my parents don’t love me. I suppose to them I’m kind of like a dog… They just feed me and keep me around because they feel morally obligated to, not because they want to. But, this is all I’ve ever known, you know? So I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand the feeling of love… I can’t even comprehend it. Maybe that’s what makes me so sour,” he laughed, though it was devoid of any happiness. Seonghwa frowned beside him. </p><p>“No one deserves that, San.” He gave San a gentle, reassuring squeeze of his hand. “Would you like to stay here for the night? I know it’s already quite late, but knowing how your family treats you, I don’t want you to go back.” </p><p>San’s eyes widened at his words, “Oh no! Gosh, I can’t possibly ask that of you. You’ve already done so much for me.”</p><p>“I have?” Seonghwa snickered, a humored smile on his lips, “Like ignoring you for a month, screaming at you, calling you a nuisance…” </p><p>“I suppose you have a point… But I was a nuisance, so…” </p><p>Seonghwa shook his head. “Enough of that, it’s in the past now. I would feel more comfortable if you were to stay here, even if for a bit. Please, San?” </p><p>San let out a quiet sigh before nodding his head, “Yeah, I suppose I’ll stay, then. But just for tonight. I’ll leave tomorrow.” </p><p>Truth be told, San didn’t want to think about leaving. As he watched Seonghwa stand from his bed and step out into the hallway to open the closet door and grab spare blankets, he thought of how wonderful it would be to continue feeling as though he were cared about and loved. </p><p>And as Seonghwa shouted down to his parents that San would be staying the night, San found himself gazing out the window once more. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>uh sorry i havent written anything since october LMFAOOO<br/>ill be real w yall. art school is kicking my absolute fucking ass. it's so draining i wanna CRY<br/>but i rlly hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! kudos and comments wld be appreciated &lt;3</p><p>follow my <a href="https://twitter.com/slutsangs">twitter</a> it's a fun time!! (18+ pls!)</p>
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